Daddy
by SonicScrewdriver
Summary: “He was very much like you, Freya,” Rose said, on the verge of tears. “You are so, so, very much like him.” When a four-year-old Freya asks about her father, Rose doesn't know how to respond. How to sum up a fantastic man in words? It's nearly impossible.


Daddy

"What was Daddy like?"

The four year old child looked up at her mother expectantly. They had talked about it, the three of them, and had discussed what to tell the girl when she asked. She was bound to, eventually, when she realized that her dad wasn't with her, and that she only had a granddad and an uncle in her family. Of course, Rose had told her all about the Doctor, and his blue box and aliens, but she hadn't told her anything in depth. She wasn't ready for the horrors, the hurt, and the damage upon life that the world could hold.

That Saturday night, the three of them, Rose, Jackie and Pete, has sat down to dinner with the youngest Tyler. Rose had known that sometime this week she'd ask; it was "Bring Your Dad To School" day yesterday, and the little girl had been a bit put out when she realized that she couldn't take anyone, and that Uncle Mickey was going with Jennifer and Jack, so he couldn't come with her either. There was only one other girl in her class that didn't have a dad. It was one of the many things that were very different about this universe than her own – while in her own universe many people were divorced or separated, it wasn't so common in this new universe. In fact, it was unpopular for people to be divorced, and had to grant a special reason or be very high up in Government or equivalents to be granted a divorce. So, all in all, it was to be expected that one day, she'd ask who her dad was. But Rose hadn't expected her to ask what her dad was _like_. For a four year old, that question was pretty intense – but it was the Doctor's daughter after all, Rose thought, so it wasn't much of a surprise to her.

Coughing, Rose looked down at her plate, not knowing what to say to the child. Rose knew that simple adjectives to describe the Doctor wouldn't be enough, for both the Doctor's memory and for the four-year-old Gallifreyan child in front of her. She had no idea what to say, and it hurt. Much more, so much more than Rose had felt for a long time, since before her daughter had been born. The little girl had appeased the pain somewhat, because of the fact that Rose now had a part of the Doctor with her; her little girl's double heartbeat soothed her like nothing else on this Earth, on this universe, could.

Jackie sensed Rose's discomfort like only a mother could, and set down her knife and fork before going over to the girl. "Right, Little Miss, time for bed," she said, picking her up. "Say goodnight to Mummy and Granddad!"

"Night, Mummy," she said, obediently, kissing both her mother and grandfather before resting her head on her grandmother's shoulder, suddenly exhausted. It had been a long day for both her and her mother, and Rose looked as drained as her daughter felt. Pete noticed, and grabbed a half-asleep Rose by the elbow and silently led her to her room, shoving her inside. Rose nodded gratefully, and sank down onto the pillows of her bed. In the room next door to her own, she could hear Jackie settling her granddaughter down, reading her a book. It wasn't long before Rose heard the door of the room click, signalling that Jackie had left. After making sure her mother had gone – Jackie would kill Rose if she knew she was still up, she was becoming increasingly concerned about her daughter's lack of sleep – Rose paddled on the thick burgundy carpet over to her daughter's room. Pushing the door open, she saw her daughter's chocolate brown head peeking up over the pink covers, her hazel eyes wide. Even she knew that her mother worked very hard and that she was to be in bed early. Her eyes went even wider when Rose sat down on her bed, but closed them contently as her mother kissed her gently on the forehead.

"You know how you asked about Daddy?" Rose said, looking at the little girl, who nodded in the affirmative.

"What was he like, Mummy?" she asked, her voice small, her little hand clutching her mother's much larger one for comfort.

"He was very much like you, Freya," Rose said, on the verge of tears. "You are so, so, very much like him." Seeing her daughter's beam, Rose kissed her again, and settled her down beneath the covers, and lay down beside her. It wasn't long before even breaths told Rose that Freya was asleep. Making sure that her daughter was well and truly asleep, Rose began whispering slowly to her.

"You are so very much like him, Freya. Kind, witty, never standing still, always looking for adventure and trouble. You have his hair, his courage, his intelligence, even his addiction to marmalade and bananas. You are the reason I'm alive today, Freya. You're my hope, my life, my daughter, and I'm so proud of you, of what you've become. And you are like him more than you'll ever, ever know."


End file.
